


Caught in the Spokes of an Abandoned Brain

by soul_punkd



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, but i wrote it at four am so what do u expect, i made my friend cri, it's just a dream don't worry, this is so sad ok, title from king for a day by ptv and kellin, tw for suicide and blood, uhhhh no one actually dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5742835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_punkd/pseuds/soul_punkd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>okay so inspired by the prompt: imagine person a and person b are roommates and person a will literally not stop smiling and theyre mr cheery cheer all the time and person b is so sick of it and then one day person b is woken up by person a screaming and crying and trembling and they want nothing more than to see person a's smile again</p><p>credit to otpdisaster.tumblr.com for the prompt btw</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is always appreciated i feel like this is better than the last one lmao
> 
> credit to otpdisaster for the prompt
> 
> uhhhh sorry if i made u cri???

Pete's new roommate was an absolute fucking pest. They had been living together for almost five months, and Pete didn't think the guy had stopped smiling once. There was absolutely no reason for one person to be so happy all the goddamn time. His name was Patrick Stump, and if Pete didn't need him to pay the rent, he was pretty sure he would have strangled him by now. 

Pete came downstairs at six AM every morning to leave for his job at an advertisement company. Every morning, without fail, Patrick was there to greet him with a smile so bright it could probably outshine the sun. Most days, he made Pete coffee, which was greatly appreciated on Pete's part. However, he couldn't stand the 400 different ways Patrick had found to tell him cheerfully to have a great day at work, even though Pete had one of the worst jobs on earth. How the fuck was he supposed to have a great day? Who was Patrick kidding?

And that was his life. Get up at ass o'clock in the morning for his shitty job, and constantly be harassed by his stupid yet uncomfortably adorable roommate. He was startled out of his thoughts as Patrick practically floated down the stairs on an aura of perpetual cheer, reminding him to bring his coffee to work and not to drive too fast on the interstate and to be sure to eat plenty of breakfast so he wouldn't be running on an empty stomach all day, all of this told with the bright grin that Pete really didn't know how to feel about. 

Finally, he snapped. Four and a half fucking months, and Pete swore to god if he ever had to hear Patrick's stupid laugh or endure another one of his dumb jokes or spend another minute staring at his precious smile that lit up the whole room, he was going to fucking throw himself into the sun. "How the fuck are you so fucking happy all the time?!?! Don't you think I get tired of hearing your idiotic optimistic bullcrap all the time?!?! Do you ever think about anyone else, or are you forever stuck in lala land where everything is sunshine and rainbows and no one cries or hurts or fucking dies? Do you even know how much fucking pain there is in this fucking world? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Pete shouted with a look of scorn on his face as he spoke. 

To his surprise, (and absolutely not relief), Patrick didn't even flinch. He simply smiled again and handed Pete the coffee cup. Pete tried (and failed) not to stare at the way the skin crinkled around the corners of Patrick's eyes when he smiled, or how his whole body reflected his pure joy, not just his mouth, or how cute the indentation of his dimples were on his slightly red cheeks. 

Pete took the coffee and wordlessly with his head down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I just- never mind. I'm sorry," he said as he walked out the door and Patrick turned to head back up the stairs. 

The next three months were relatively uneventful, until November. The month Pete got a promotion. Working on an advertisement hotline for a paper towel company is a shitty job, but being the CEO is definitely not. His pay check was nearly doubled, and he probably would have been able to afford the rent of his Patrick's apartment on his own. Four months ago, he would have been eager for a chance to no longer rely on his overly exuberant roommate, but Pete had grown _attached_ to Patrick over the weeks. He had come to realise that he was genuinely happier when Patrick was around, and he had even had a heated argument over the best Star Wars movie with him once. The prospect of throwing Patrick out the window and making it look like an accident became more and more appealing with each passing day and every bright word of encouragement or three course breakfast meal. But for some reason, he didn't quite want Patrick gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah so same as last time this one has the tw in it so pls stay safe and read the other version if u need to

_2:30 AM_

It was a well known fact that Pete had insomnia. Usually it kept him up until at least one am, until Patrick brought him tea or pills because he had been making too much noise. Patrick. Still relentlessly caring for him. Pete wished he could roll his eyes around 360 degrees. He knew he was fucked up. But it wasn't Patrick's job to burden himself with all of Pete's stupid issues. Patrick was too good for that. He had never considered that Patrick might be the one that actually needed to be taken care of. 

Patrick had gotten laid off from the law firm he worked at, and was still looking for another job, and thus they were forced to live off of Pete's pay check. Which was not, in fact, as large as he had originally thought. They were forced to sacrifice Patrick's bedroom in order to have a place to stay at all. Pete had quickly given up his bed for the sake of Patrick's comfort and had taken up a mattress on the floor next to him, despite his friend's futile protests. 

For once in his lifetime, Pete was eternally grateful for his insomnia, and the loss of the second room, when _he_ was awoken by _Patrick_ at some abominable time. Specifically, Patrick, the literal sun, who was in a ceaseless state of inexhaustible joy, screaming bloody murder. Pete didn't really give himself time to think. He discarded the thin blankets on the floor by his feet and climbed into Patrick's bed. He wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders, placed the other hand gently on the small of his back, and pulled him into a tight embrace. 

Patrick was a mess. He was sobbing and trembling as he was enveloped in Pete's strong arms. "Shhh, shhh, Patrick, it's okay, you're safe. It was just a dream, baby, I've got you, you're safe now," Pete whispered as Patrick shook weakly. 

"Pete?" Patrick asked between sobs.

"Hey, hey hey hey, yeah, I'm right here. Are you okay? Jesus, 'Trick, talk to me, you're scaring me, please?" Pete pleaded as the man in his arms cried harder. "Was it a nightmare? Do you want to talk about it? It's better to talk about it, you shouldn't be keeping all that to yourself. I'm really worried about you, 'Trick. You're really scaring me. Say something, please?"

Patrick's breathing grew shorter and faster, and he curled in on himself as he shook, and Pete became a little more concerned as he recognised the beginning signs of a panic attack. He began to rub circles on Patrick's back with his hand, breathing sweet nothings into his ear almost inaudibly in an attempt to calm him down. Patrick feel asleep in Pete's grasp two hours later, but Pete stayed up until dawn running his fingers through Patrick's hair and wondering why Patrick tried so hard to take care of him if he couldn't even take care of himself. 

Pete took three weeks off of work (he was the boss he could afford it) to take care of Patrick. Patrick, whose face had once been lit up by an enchanting smile and beautiful shimmering eyes, was now sunken and sullen and red from spending hours wrapped in Pete's tight embrace sobbing. He needed someone to help him, and Pete blamed himself for not being that person earlier and preventing this in the first place. And since they couldn't afford a therapist, Pete was the next best thing. 

Three days after The Incident, or at least that was what Pete was calling it in his mind, Patrick told him about the dream. "I was at a funeral. For me, I think. Yeah. For me. And you were giving the eulogy. And you were crying, and I couldn't stand it, because all I've ever done is try to protect you, but it was my fault, it was so selfish of me to think of doing that and leaving you behind. And I'm sorry, Pete, I'm sorry for failing you, because I only thought about myself and I only wanted to help you, because I love you, because I want you to see the good in this world, not just the bad. But as soon as I stepped towards you, you started getting farther away and the faster I ran the farther I got from you and then I could only make out your hand as you-" he paused and buried his head into Pete's shoulder, drawing in a few shaky breaths. "You, you pulled out a gun and" -breath- "held it to your head and when you" -breath- "when you pulled the trigger the world exploded, into black and white, except, except for you. Everything was dark except for you, and the blood. Your blood. Surrounding me, mocking me almost, a reminder of you, and everything I couldn't save." 

Pete just stared. He had no idea what to do, what to say. He hadn't known that Patrick cared that much about him. He'd figured he was just a nice person in general. God, he should never have yelled at him that time. This was all his fault. He looked at Patrick skeptically and asked, "You love me?"

Patrick blushed, a deep pink that reminded Pete of the sunset after rain. "I-yeah, I guess. I mean, do you love me?"

For the first time in almost three days, Pete genuinely smiled. "Yeah, 'Trick. I do. I love you so fucking much but I was such a coward, and I wish I hadn't been, because none of this would have happened if I had just kissed you like I wanted to so badly the first time I saw your smile." 

Timidly, Patrick broke his intense gaze with his sneakers to look up at Pete. "Can I, maybe, I don't know, but could I maybe kiss you?"

Pete didn't even respond. A slow smile spread across his face as he placed both of his hands on Patrick's hips, stroking the indentations of the bones with his thumbs. He slipped one hand under Patrick's shirt and ran it over the smooth skin of his back. Patrick scooted closer to him on the tiny twin bed as Pete leaned in to press his lips to the younger man's. Patrick sighed contently, and Pete felt his the other man's lips stretch into a smile against his. Almost immediately after curling into his side, Patrick was fast asleep. Pete slept soon after, pressing a chaste kiss to Patrick's forehead just before he began to dream.


End file.
